


Most Ungentle Fortune

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic Stiles, Mythical Monsters, Torture, kate argent is a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is kidnapped by Kate Argent, who is convinced he has some sort of magic. He makes an unlikely friendship with the werewolf in the cell beside him, and together, they rally against Kate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Ungentle Fortune

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Adventures of Pericles, a work attributed to William Shakespeare (though he might have stolen at least part of it.) It inspired this fic because of a character’s ability to talk her way out of anything.

Stiles regained consciousness slowly. The first thing to really penetrate the fog was the pain in his head, then the cold beneath him, followed by how hard the surface was. Stiles blinked open gritty eyes, and found himself surrounded by bars. The only light came from a dimly lit hallway on the other side of the door. He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked for some water to wash the cotton from his mouth. Not only was there no water, there was no toilet. Just a slimy looking bucket in the corner.

“What the fuck?” Stiles croaked. The last he remembered, he’d been marathoning Halo with Scott. It was their first time seeing each other since Stiles came back from his last semester at college, so they’d planned to play for hours.

A low angry growl came from a few feet away. He looked left toward the source of the sound and locked his gaze with glowing blue eyes. The sight filled him with simultaneous fear and relief. Not all werewolves were friendly, but at least Stiles knew how to handle them.

“Hi there,” Stiles said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. “Where the heck are we?”

The growling ceased momentarily, then started back up at a louder volume.

“Okay, yeah, good point,” Stiles said. “But my dad and my friend Scott are going to get really worried when they can’t find me. Scott’s a werewolf, and I’m his pack.”

The growling cut off again, and this time a gravelly voice echoed, “Pack?”

“That’s right,” Stiles said. He crawled toward the bars that separated their cells to get a closer look at the werewolf. He could only see the outline of the werewolf in the dim light, so he couldn’t gauge his reaction. “Your pack is probably looking too, right? I don’t know how I got here, who brought me, or what they want.”

“I don’t know. They might think I’m dead by now, but…” The werewolf trailed off then huffed a short growl. “They’re called the Argents. Their family has been hunting for years, but I don’t think anyone knew about this place.”

“And what _is_ this place? What do they do?” Stiles prompted.

“Test the limits of your power,” Derek said. “Learn more about what you can do so they can use it against your kind.”

Stiles swallowed thickly. “Okay. Well, that sounds like a barrel of fun, except I’m not supernatural.”

The growling started up again after the werewolf spat, “Yes, you are. You reek of magic.”

“No. They made a mistake,” Stiles insisted. “I don’t have any power.”

The wolf’s glowing blue eyes flared brighter. “I can smell it on you.”

Stiles shrugged his stiff shoulders helplessly. “Maybe it's all the time I spend with magic people. Listen to my heart, I’m not lying. I am not magic.”

The werewolf crept closer, sniffing the air. “Your heart is steady but I don’t think it’s just a transferred scent. What sort of magical beings are you usually with?”

“Our local vet is an emissary, and Scott works for him. And my friend Lydia is a banshee. You’re probably just smelling her,” Stiles said.

“I don’t think--” The werewolf broke off. “Get away from the bars,” he ordered. Stiles shuffled back as the werewolf moved as far from the hallway as possible and resumed his steady growl.

A moment later, Stiles heard footsteps clomping down the hallway. He watched helplessly as the werewolf fought tooth and nail against two burly men who dragged him from the cage. His snarls echoed off the walls until they faded away.

***

The Sheriff watched out his front window as he waited for Scott to answer the phone. He thought it would go to voicemail, but Scott finally answered on the tenth ring.

“Hello?”

“Scott. Sorry, to bother you, but is Stiles there?” The Sheriff tapped an idle finger on the glass. They’d planned to spend the day together, and while Stiles was old enough to have his own life, and his own friends, it wasn’t like him to blow his dad off. Even if he couldn’t make it, he always called.

“No, he left last night,” Scott said. “Why?”

The Sheriff was silent for a moment. “It’s probably nothing. I just expected him home by now and he’s not answering his phone. Must have gone to visit someone else.”

“Right,” Scott said. “Except, he said last night he was going straight home. He even mentioned you two had plans.”

Sheriff Stilinski gave himself another moment to absorb this information, then said, “I’m sorry, Scott, but I need to go call the station now. I think my son is missing.”

***

Stiles spent the entire time that the werewolf was gone inspecting his cell. He tried to jimmy the lock, but he didn’t have a lockpick, and the iron was solid. There were runes inscribed in the bars, and a beam of wood running above it that Stiles suspected was mountain ash. The cell could probably keep any supernatural creature locked up tight. An ordinary being like Stiles didn’t have a chance.

Stiles wasn’t sure how long it was until the werewolf was dragged back into the cell next door. He was still growling, but it wasn’t as steady, and there were no snarls or swipes at his captors. Stiles heeded the order from earlier and avoided the bars, not even looking over as the burly men opened the door and dropped the werewolf past the threshold. The cage clanged shut and after the men left, Stiles rushed over to press against the bars.

The werewolf was lying on his back, eyes closed. The light was still dim, but Stiles could make out the shine of fresh blood welling on his bare stomach. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “Can you heal from that?”

Bright blue eyes blinked open, confusion crossing his face before he nodded, eyes drifting shut again. “Yeah, I...It would be easier with my pack, but I can still feel them. Now that they’ve unhooked the electricity, it’ll start to heal faster.”

Stiles shuddered at the thought of enough electricity being pumped into the werewolf to inhibit his healing, even after it was detached. The werewolf must be craving the support of his pack. Stiles did what he would do if Scott was hurt: He reached through the bars to place a hand on the werewolf’s arm.

The wolf jolted in surprise. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Reach through the bars.” The werewolf had opened his eyes again and was staring incredulously at Stiles.

Stiles shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not magic. Maybe the runes aren’t designed to affect mundane creatures.” Stiles lowered himself to his stomach and wiggled his fingers toward the werewolf’s hand. “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

The wolf eyed his fingers for a moment, then reached over to take his hand. “Derek.”

***

Laura looked up from her place on the couch as Cora entered the livingroom. She still wore her shorts and tank top from her run, and a fine sheen of sweat coated her skin.

“Anything?” Laura asked.

Cora shook her head. “No sign of him.”

A wave of sorrow burst in her chest, and she reached for her sister's hand to lessen the ache of her brother’s absence. More than pack, more than family, they had always been a unit. It was them against the world, and without Derek at her back, she felt vulnerable. With each day passing day that he was missing, the hope that he’d be returned safely diminished. If she didn’t have their pack bond, humming in her heart, she just might give up that hope entirely.

***

Derek heard the goons coming before Stiles did, and once again they studiously ignored each other as they approached. This time, Stiles was the one to be removed from his cell.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to be so rough,” Stiles said stumbling along between them. The men ignored his protests and marched him through a series of hallways, then into a room where they strapped him to a chair. Stiles couldn’t get a good look at his surroundings because there was a series of bright lights pointing at him. He blinked at the contrast to the dimly lit cell. “Is that really necessary?”

“You tell me,” purred a feminine voice. A woman stepped past the lights so he could see her, and leaned in close to him, her cleavage prominently displayed in front of his face. “Why don’t we have a little chat, hmm?”

“You know I would, but I’m late for dinner, so let’s wrap this up shall we?” Stiles said.

She ran her fingers through his hair, sharp nails biting into his scalp as they dragged. “I don’t think so sweetie. You can go home after I’m done with you. Tell me all about your magic, and then you’ll be on your way.”

Stiles didn’t need to be a werewolf to know she was lying. “See, here's the thing, lady. I have no magic.”

The woman tutted like she was scolding a child. “Don’t try to hide it. Even if you’re still just a spark, we have ways of finding out these things. I want to know how your power manifests.”

“It doesn’t,” Stiles insisted. “I have none. I’m ordinary. Mundane. Completely human.”

The woman sighed. “This could’ve been so much easier for you.” She stopped leaning over him but didn’t back away. “If you aren’t going to tell me, you’ll just have to show me.”

“That still isn’t possible, I--” Stiles head jerked to the side from the impact of her slap. “ _Ow_.”

“Oh well,” the woman purred. “If you don’t want to play nice, I’ll just force your magic to react myself.” Another slap stung his cheek. “I really don’t mind, but you will.”

By the time Stiles was thrown back into his cell, his lip was bleeding, and his face and wrists were bruised. He suspected the woman had been going easy on him, but he'd never been tortured before. His skin burned, he couldn’t stop shaking, and tears streamed steadily from his eyes.

“Come here,” Derek hissed when the footsteps of the goons had faded away.

Stiles forced himself over to the bars and reached his hand through. “It’s not that bad,” he said through chattering teeth. “I know she did worse to you--”

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles, I heal. You don’t.” Derek smoothed his thumb in circles over Stiles’ wrist. “Kate knows what limits she can push, and likes the anticipation of building up, raising the stakes. She gets off on it.”

“Is that her name? Kate?” Stiles asked.

“There are others, but she’s one of the leaders. I can smell her on you,” Derek said, as he rubbed his hand up Stiles arm, like he wanted to touch him all over and chase the scent away.

“She wouldn’t listen,” Stiles said, another tremor racking his frame. “I tried to tell her I wasn’t magic but she just--”

“Shh, don’t think about it,” Derek said.

Stiles rested his forehead against the bars and slid his other arm through. “I can’t stop. It just keeps playing in my head.”

“Maybe you could tell me about your family?” Derek suggested.

Stiles tried to think of his Dad, then of Scott, and even Melissa, but all he could think was how worried they must be, and how he may never see them again. His throat closed around the words and he shook his head.

Derek sighed. “I’m not very good at this. People aren’t really my thing.”

Stiles thought of the growls that had greeted him when he’d first woken up, and the laugh that barked out hurt his chest. “Maybe tell me about yours?”

“My family?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded. Derek settled into a more comfortable position, as close as the bars would allow and still touching Stiles. “My mother's name is Talia. Mom and alpha. Even when she pushes you as far as she can, or shows her dominance, you know she loves you. My older sister is Laura. The alpha in training. She’s always bossing people around and making plans. She was on student council all through highschool, and head of the debate team, because she will argue about anything. She's still learning how to do what's best for us without pushing us into something we really don't want.”

Stiles smiled at the affection in Derek’s voice, and it made the crack in his lip sting.

“Cora is the baby of the family, but you’d never call her that unless you want your balls cut off,” Derek said dryly. “She’s independent, but loyal. She has no use for social niceties. Like me.”

“What a surprise,” Stiles snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. What can I say? I’m not the friendliest guy in the best of situations,” Derek said.

Stiles didn’t want to dwell on the worst of situations, so he said, “Keep going.”

“Peter,” Derek said. “That's my uncle. He’s sly and cunning. He plays things off like he doesn't care, but then he finds a way to make it right. He taught me how to ride a bike, catch a ball, drive a car. When I was 7, Laura stole all of my toy cars and forced me to play dolls with her to get them back. She returned them before mom could find out, so I thought she wouldn’t get punished for it. The next day, all of her Barbies were hanging from the tallest tree in the yard. Peter stood on the porch and laughed while telling her where to put her feet to climb up and get them.”

Stiles snorted, thinking of little Derek running to his uncle for help in swift revenge. “What about your dad?”

Derek just shook his head. Stiles didn’t press as Derek went on to tell him about his grandparents instead.

***

“He can’t have just disappeared,” Scott insisted. “We’ll find him.”

The Sheriff nodded, but he'd been a cop for too long. He knew the statistics, and with each day that passed, the chances of getting his son back alive grew more slim. He didn’t tell that to Scott though. It didn’t really matter either way, because Sheriff Stilinski would never stop looking. 

No matter how many weeks it had been.

***

Stiles struggled against the two men as they dragged him down the hallway for the fourth time. He’d had very little water, and even less food, so his limbs felt sluggish, but he laboured against them nonetheless. It was a matter of pride.

This time, instead of strapping him to the chair to await Kate’s treatment, they tossed him into another cell, larger than his or Derek’s.

The metal box looked a lot like a wrestling ring for a cage fight, but it was stronger, with runes carved into the iron. There was no crowd screaming around it, but Stiles could hear a few murmured voices, and see the flicker of shadows past Kate’s signature blinding lights. 

“Well, sweetie,” Kate called from outside the cage. “You just aren’t meeting our standards. We’ve gotta get a return on our investment. I mean, it wasn’t easy capturing you in the first place, not to mention transporting you here, and generously providing room and board. So we’re going to try something new. You either use your magic to keep yourself alive in there, or...not.”

Stiles hauled himself to his feet, looking around the box. Keep himself alive? Against what? A door slid open, and a creature was thrust into the cage. When it pulled itself to its feet, Stiles recognized it as a cyclops. He'd seen them in books, but only ever met one of them, and she’d been using a glamour for their entire acquaintance.

The cyclops took a moment to orient himself to the space, then charged at Stiles.

“Shit, shit,” Stiles said, dodging out of the way. He could hear laughter echo outside the cage.

The cyclops lumbered around and charged again. Stiles forced his tired legs into action. Cyclopes were large and strong, but slow, with limited peripheral vision, so Stiles resolved to keep moving, hoping to stay in his blind spot.

There wasn’t a whole lot else Stiles knew about cyclopes, except...he was virtually positive they tended to be non-violent people.

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles called. The cyclops turned toward Stiles’ voice and ran toward him again.

Stiles dashed to the side. “I’m not your enemy, dude. I’m just 150 pounds of skin and bone. I won’t hurt you.”

The cyclops stumbled to a stop and turned slowly. “This isn’t about you, kid.”

“Then why are you attacking me?” Stiles countered.

“I’ve gotta stay alive. It’s me or you.” The cyclops rushed him again, and Stiles continued his circle.

“Says who? Kate?” Stiles asked. “Hate to break it to you, dude, but that lady is insane.”

The cyclops snorted as an affronted huff came from outside the cage. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I guess it’s pretty obvious, huh?” Stiles said with a tired smile. “Hey, is this the first time they’ve made you do this cage thing?”

The cyclops hesitated. “No.”

Stiles nodded. “I thought so. What happened last time? Did they treat you better? Give you more food? Let you go home?”

Once again the cyclops ceased his advances. After a moment, he said quietly, “No. None of that.”

Stiles stood poised to run again. “Then what’s the point? I just want to stay alive long enough to get back to my family. Don’t you?”

The cyclops nodded, then shook himself all over. “I have to win this so I can go home.”

Stiles sighed. “I’m no threat to you, man. The second you catch me, I’m done for. Please, just think a minute. She’s insane. She’s never going to let us go by choice. The best shot we have is each other.” Stiles could see his words were getting through so he pressed on. “I heard cyclops were noble beings. Is this how you want to go down? Killing a defenceless human?”

Silence buzzed through the room, then the cyclops lowered himself to his knees. “No. It isn’t.”

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. “What’s your name?”

“George.”

“I’m Stiles.” They sat together calmly until Kate’s muscle men came in and dragged them out. The punishment she doled out was painful, but they both survived.

***

Stiles wrapped his arm around himself and hummed tunelessly. It was always too quiet when Derek wasn’t in the cell next to him, even if Derek didn’t say anything. Always too cold without the heat of Derek’s skin through the bars. 

He broke off when he heard the sound of the guards approaching, then huddled in the far corner as they threw Derek in like garbage.

Something was wrong. He could see Derek was trembling, could hear him whimper, but he didn’t know what new horrors Kate might have devised to test his limits and he couldn’t risk going to Derek until the henchmen were well and truly gone. 

When the last echo of footsteps had bounced into silence, Stiles rushed toward the bars and reached though. “Derek?”

Derek grabbed Stiles arm, hard enough to hurt, and his panic was so great Stiles could feel his pulse through his skin.

“What colour are my eyes?” Derek asked. He looked up at Stiles, and when Stiles didn’t answer immediately he demanded, “Stiles, what colour are they?”

Shock and fear made it hard for Stiles to push the words out. “Red. They’re red now.”

Stiles held Derek through the bars while he cried.

***

“Mom!” Laura jumped down the stairs and rushed into the living room, Cora was hot on her heels. “Mom, what happened to Derek’s pack bond? Why is it so faint now?”

Talia stared out at them, her hand pressed to her chest like the change was a physical ache.

“Is Derek dying?” Cora asked quietly.

Talia looked to Peter as he entered the living room, her expression grave. “No,” she said, and refused to discuss it anymore.

***

Derek healed faster now that he was an alpha, but that meant Kate’s torture methods had increased in viciousness. Stiles hadn’t even known that was possible. She’d been forcing him to fight betas to test his new strength. Derek refused to kill them, and instead encouraged them to submit, hoping they could gain strength from each other through a feeble pack bond.

Stiles was hoping that if they could build enough connections with the other prisoners, they could find a way to escape, but since they were never alone long enough to form a plan, that wasn’t going very well.

He ran his fingers through Derek’s hair as he healed, until eventually Derek had enough strength to speak. “Another beta accepted me as alpha today. His name is Boyd. He seemed calm. Slower than Isaac, but stronger than Erica.”

“Looks like we’re both three for three,” Stiles said. He’d been in the cage twice more and managed to come out alive, if not unscathed.

Derek nodded. “These three were easy because their pack bonds were already weak. If I meet an alpha or someone with a strong bond, it might not work.”

Stiles didn’t want to consider that possibility. They lapsed into silence, knowing there was only so long they could keep this up.

***

Scott bounded up to the jeep and called, “Sheriff, it’s here!”

Then he got tackled into the dirt. He snarled and rolled with his assailant, but she quickly got the upper hand, pinning him to the ground.

“Where’s Derek?” The girl snarled in his face.

“Who?” Scott said, blinking in confusion as he squirmed beneath her.

“I beg your pardon,” the Sheriff said. “But could you please get off my werewolf? I’m fond of him, and I need his help to track my son.”

“Let go, Cora.”

“Uncle Peter,” Cora whined.

“Now, now. No reason we can’t be civil,” Peter chided. “It seems we have a common goal. You’re looking for someone as well?”

The Sheriff nodded as Scott and Cora got to their feet. “My son, Stiles. This is his jeep. ”

“Interesting,” Peter said. “As it happens, we’re on the hunt for my nephew, Derek. This is his Camaro.” He gestured to the sleek black car next to Stiles’ battered blue baby. Peter smiled. “Why don’t you come for tea?”

***

Stiles was slammed into the cage by two men as Kate paced outside of it, her body tense with rage.

“How are you reasoning with them?” Kate snarled. “They’re barely more than animals. You shouldn’t have been able to do it once, let alone five times!” She turned on him, her eyes glistening. “It was almost understandable with the cyclops, I mean, they’re pathetically docile. But a vampire? A fury? They should have _ended_ you.” She stalked away from him to resume her pacing. “What kind of freak of nature can be put in a cage with a Wendigo and come out with barely a scratch?” 

“A very lucky one?” Stiles offered.

Kate whirled back around and advanced on the cage. “You think you're so fucking smart, huh? I swear, you will die this time, or I will come in there and end you myself!”

Stiles took a moment to reflect on the fact that when faced with the prospect of death, his first thought wasn’t his dad or Scott. It was not getting to say goodbye to Derek. 

“You can’t keep this up forever,” Stiles said. “It’s already spreading, they’re already fighting against you. Someone will get the upper hand, and when they’re free, they won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Kate smirked at him. “They’ll never get free. I’ll make an example of you, and they’ll fall back into line, where they belong.” 

She gave the signal to her men and the gate on the other side of the ring started to open. A low, rumbling growl emerged from the pitch black portal, and Stiles couldn’t tell if it was coming from the cage door mechanisms or the being he was supposed to fight to the death. 

From their first meeting, Stiles had known that Kate was cruel. But it wasn’t until he looked, _really_ looked into her eyes and caught the deep glint of ruthless insanity that he fully understood the violence she was capable of. As much as he tried to pretend he was strong and believed they’d be freed, Kate terrified him.

He tore his eyes away from her to face as his next opponent was thrust inside. His first impression was of a muscled build and the tension of barely restrained strength. 

“Oh,” Stiles said. He and Derek stared at each other before coming together in a rush. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles for the first time. After reaching through bars for so long, Derek’s tight embrace grounded him, as if he’d been floating adrift the whole time he’d been there and finally been anchored to shore.

Derek’s hands moved continuously, making up for all the time spent unable to reach out and offer comfort the same way Stiles had. He slid them under Stiles’ shirt and over his touch starved skin. A shiver chased up Stiles’ spine and Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck, inhaling deeply. At first, it felt like when Scott would scent him, but then Derek pressed a kiss to the column of his throat, and he didn’t feel like Scott at all. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, barely louder than a breath. 

“Wanted to hold you for so long,” Derek murmured. Stiles tangled one hand into Derek’s hair while the other traveled over skin that felt achingly familiar from their time in the cells, yet completely new because Derek was _right here_ , and nothing could separate them now.

It didn’t take much longer for the explorations of their hands to inspire their mouths, and Stiles moaned as his lips met Derek’s for the first time. And the second. The fourth and fifth sort of blended together, and from there he had better things to do than count.

They both jolted as the door of the cage slammed open, but they didn’t loosen their grip on each other.

“You stupid animal! You were supposed to kill him, not _fuck him_ ,” Kate screamed. She advanced on them quickly. Derek shoved Stiles behind him and snarled. 

Stiles wasn’t exactly clear on what happened next. He knew that Kate had raised her crossbow and took a shot. He knew the bolt had been spinning toward Derek’s heart. He remembered raising his hand and shouting. He didn’t really understand why the arrow hand flipped back the way it had come and plunged into Kate’s throat.

He watched Kate’s eyes widen, saw her drop to the ground and stared at the pool of red growing beneath her, soaking her dirty blonde hair.

“Fuck,” Derek whispered. After that, it was like a dam burst, and suddenly Stiles could hear Kate’s cronies cursing and panicking outside. Stiles thought to himself, _It would be really handy if all the cells we’re open right now._

And then they were. The door of the big cage swung open, and Stiles listened as creatures throughout Kate’s prison roared. Some of her followers grabbed their weapons and ran for the doors, but they were already bursting open as the beings they had held captive and injured leapt through the doors.

Stiles couldn’t watch the carnage that followed. He shoved his face into Derek’s neck and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Not magic, huh?” Derek said.

“What?”

“You stopped Kate’s arrow, and you broke all of the barriers on the cages,” Derek pointed out. “If that doesn’t prove you’re magic, I don’t know what does.”

Stiles scoffed. “That wasn’t me.”

Derek chuckled. “Stiles, who do you think did it?”

Stiles tried to think of a logical option and came up empty.

“Uh huh,” Derek said smugly.

The sound of the fighting was dying down, so Stiles chanced a look outside. Most of the guards were dead or getting there. Considering their part in the whole operation, Stiles was finding it hard to feel bad about that.

He stepped out of the cage with Derek close behind him and called, “Are you finished?”

A few people responded with variations of, “Yes.”

“So, we’re all free then?” Stiles said.

He didn’t expect that to cause everyone to focus on each other. Everyone had started looking for an exit, determined to be the first one out. Snarls came up from the crowd, small fights and challenges against each other quickly turned the group to chaos.

“Oh, this won’t do at all,” Stiles said, biting his thumbnail. “We need to get them to stop.”

“Sure,” Derek said. Then he roared, as loud as he could.

A few werewolves dropped to their knees in submission, and the other creatures stared at them in shock.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, reaching back to pat Derek’s chest.. “Everybody try to calm down. I know you all want to go home. So do we. We can’t just go running off half-cocked. We don’t know where we are, or what time of day it is.” The handful of vampires on the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Obviously, if you want to take your chances on your own, you’re free to go now, but I think we’ll have a better shot at getting out of here safely if we stick together.” Stiles looked back at Derek and he nodded encouragingly. Stiles closed his eyes and visualized how they could best get everyone back home. 

George the cyclops pushed through the crowd. “Well then, kid, what do you propose we do?”

***

The Sheriff sat at the Hales’ kitchen table, staring down at everything they knew about Derek and Stiles’ disappearances. For all it took up the whole table, it still wasn’t enough for him to find his boy.

His phone went off in his pocket, and he pulled it out, frowning down at the unfamiliar number. It was probably just a telemarketer, and he had other things to worry about. He almost shoved the phone back in his pocket but a feeling in his gut made him answer instead. “Stilinski.”

Silence buzzed through the line, until finally he heard a shaky, “Dad?”

His heart started pounding and Talia rose from her seat, her chair squeaking as she rushed over, face filled with concern. The Sheriff took a deep breath, thinking, _Stiles would kill me if I had a heart attack._ “Stiles?”

“Hi.” Stiles said. Just that. After weeks of no sign of him, weeks of worrying and searching, his boy is on the phone and all he says is _hi_.

“Hi, kiddo,” the Sheriff responded. Well, they were related after all.

“So I got kidnapped by some crazy people,” Stiles said.

“I gathered that much,” the Sheriff said. “Jesus, son, we’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Stiles said.

The Sheriff sighed. “You don’t need to be sorry, Stiles. Just tell me where you are and we can come get you.”

“Yeah, actually, that would be helpful,” Stiles said. “In fact, do you think you could borrow the transport van? Or maybe a school bus?”

The Sheriff rubbed a hand over his face. “Sure. Why?”

Stiles was silent for a second, then he said. “I wasn’t the only one kidnapped, Dad. The others need to get home too.”

The Sheriff finally noticed the Hales leaning in closer with every second and staring at him. “I wondered about that. See, we’ve met a pack who are also looking for someone. Have you met any Hales? Derek Hale?”

“Oh.” Stiles moved the phone away from his mouth. “Der, my dad’s met your pack.”

“Oh my god, is he there? Is he okay?” Laura lunged toward the Sheriff and stopped herself short of grabbing his phone.

“Stiles, maybe you could put Derek on for a second for his pack,” the Sheriff suggested. 

“Are you with them now? Well, that’s one less call to make,” Stiles said. “Here.” There was a shuffle in the background, and the Sheriff put his one phone on speaker even though the wolves could hear everything anyway.

“Derek?” Cora said.

“Hey, Cora.”

Cora burst into tears and Laura growled. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Missed you, too, Laura.”

“Derek, are you safe now?” Talia asked. If the Sheriff hadn’t seen the tremor in her hands, he’d think the woman was all business.

“The threat’s been taken care of, but I don’t think we should linger here for long. We need to get everyone out and back to their own families,” Derek responded.

“But what about you?” Laura prompted. “Are you okay?”

The was silence for a moment, then Derek said, “Yeah. Sure.” The Sheriff didn’t need to be a werewolf listening to a heartbeat to know that was a lie.

“Tell me what you need to get out of there,” the Sheriff said. Like Talia, he focused on taking care of business, rather than breaking down.

“Stiles,” Derek said.

“Food, and transportation,” Stiles said. “Fuck, how did I not notice how hungry I am? Whatever, let me give you our address. How many cars can you get?”

The Sheriff wrote down Stiles’ location and they talked about the vehicles the Hales could supply and how many of them were willing to drive across the state.

“I should check in with the others and let them call their own families,” Stiles said eventually. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Before you know it,” the Sheriff said. It was hard to hang up but he forced himself to end the call. The sooner he got moving, the sooner he’d have his son back.

“How many do you think are there?” Laura asked.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Cora said.

***

Isaac managed to find the storage room with everyone’s personal effects. He passed them out, but most of the phones were dead. Boyd found a garage with a fleet of SUVs. Stiles happily factored them into transporting everyone home. Erica found the breakroom. Because Kate’s henchmen actually had a freaking breakroom, with a microwave and tables and everything. Erica took charge of distributing food to everyone.

Eventually, the majority of the group went to wait outside. Some stayed inside because it was only four in the afternoon and they didn’t fancy turning to stone or disintegrating after surviving this long.

It only took an hour after that for the first family member to arrive. George’s brother greeted him with tears in his eye. Stiles threw himself into sending everyone on their way. People started arriving in droves to collect them, and Stiles kept a detailed list and double checked everyone before sending them on their way.

Derek didn’t leave his side, squeezing his hand or placing an arm around his waist. Stiles used the support to bolster himself as exhaustion threatened. He was so engrossed in his efforts, he didn’t even notice his father arrive.

“Stiles.” Derek pointed over to the fleet of cars that had just pulled in. He guided Stiles over as his knees threatened to give out.

He was at a complete loss for words. His dad embraced him and Stiles clung on for dear life. He didn’t dare let himself cry, because he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop. He could hear Derek’s family greeting him, but Derek never took his hand from Stiles’ waist.

Eventually he pulled back and offered his dad a shaky smile. “Hey, Dad.”

“What can I do to help?” the Sheriff asked.

Stiles took a deep breath and Derek wrapped around him from behind. “Well…” He forced himself once again to focus on the task at hand.

***

“Find me on facebook, okay?” Stiles gave one last hug to Emma, a young imp, before she joined the last group of captives to start their journey home. The last, apart from Stiles, Derek, and his new betas.

Derek had expected that they would return to their original packs, but at the suggestion, the trio had seemed hesitant. When Derek offered, they leaped at the chance to stay with him. Apparently whatever was waiting for them at home was worse than the unknown of a new life with Derek. Stiles didn’t press.

Boyd agreed to accompany Laura in escorting a group of goblins home. The Sheriff had borrowed Melissa’s car for the trip, since he didn’t think anyone recently freed would respond well to the cruiser. They gave Isaac the front seat since he was the tallest. Erica teased that Stiles should take the middle because he had the smallest butt. He acted affronted but he didn’t really mind, because it meant he got to sit next to Derek.

“Derek, your seatbelt,” Stiles prompted when Derek made no move to grab it.

“Right,” Derek said. He hesitated, then grabbed the grey strap and buckled it quickly. He started fussing with the belt as soon as it rested against his chest, plucking at it and sliding his fingers underneath.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked gently.

“It’s too tight,” Derek said.

Stiles thought he could probably argue that the seatbelt was adjustable and it fit just fine, but he didn’t think that was the point. Derek felt confined. Some day, Derek would have to work through that. But not today.

“Here, just slip it behind you,” Stiles said, helping Derek push it over his head to rest against the seat. He knew it wouldn’t be as effective in the event of a crash, but it would have to do. He settled against Derek’s shoulder and rubbed circles on his chest, hoping to remind him there were no barriers there.

“All set?” The Sheriff asked. 

Stiles fell asleep 15 minutes after Kate’s prison disappeared from view.

The Sheriff drove through the night. The sun was just creeping over the horizon when he pulled into a gas station to meet up with Laura.

“I checked the maps,” he explained as his passengers blinked themselves awake. “This is where our routes divide. Beacon Hills is west, the Hale’s live east.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. He hadn’t thought about that. In all the plans, plotting, and distribution, it hadn’t occurred to him that while he was going home, so was Derek. And that was not the same place. 

Everyone piled out of the car, stretching stiff legs. Erica hugged him goodbye, and Isaac gave a stiff nod before they joined Boyd in the back of Laura’s sedan.

“So,” Stiles said, injecting his voice with false cheer. “Your pack will be anxious to see you.”

“Stiles,” Derek said softly.

“Come see me some time,” Stiles blurted out. “If you want. Maybe. You don’t have to.” He pressed himself into Derek’s chest one last time and said, “Be safe.” He took a big step back and hit Melissa’s car.

“Stiles,” Derek said again.

“Derek, let’s go,” Laura called.

“I’m coming,” Derek told her, but he looked back to Stiles. “I have to…”

Stiles nodded. “Go see you pack.”

The stared at each other a moment longer, then Laura called out again. Stiles turned away and got into the front seat. He didn’t watch Derek walk over to his sister and tried not to listen to the sound of them driving away. He could already feel Derek’s absence, like a physical ache.

The Sheriff reached over and took his hand. “It’s okay, kiddo, it’s over now. You got them all out.”

Stiles nodded. Then he finally let himself cry.

***

Stiles went to bed as soon as he got home, and couldn’t find the energy to leave. Even a short trip to the bathroom exhausted him. Scott came to see him of course, and his dad kept bring up food and encouraging him to eat.

Stiles didn’t understand why he wasn’t hungry. Kate had barely given him any food, only enough to keep him alive. He should he starving, and his stomach ached, so he probably was, but he couldn’t generate any enthusiasm for the food. He tried to perk up for Scott. He really was happy to see his friend, especially after thinking he never would again. But talking took so much _effort_. He couldn’t reassure Scott that he was okay, because he couldn’t convince himself that he was.

Sometimes he could muster up fear. Fear that what Kate had done would be permanent, that he would never find the energy to leave his bed, never manage to put it behind him and _heal_.

Scott asked him what had happened. Stiles could barely breathe.

After four days of lying in bed, willing himself to move, his window slid open.

It was nearly midnight, and the gentle rasp of the wood surprised him. A distant part of him thought he should probably be alarmed, but that seemed like too much work. The floor creaked and Stiles forced himself to roll over and at least look. He was caught in a glowing red gaze immediately.

But he was used to bright red blazing in shadows. This was familiar. This was safe. Relief washed over him, and he reached out. “Derek.”

Derek went to him immediately, crawling into bed and pressing down onto Stiles. Stiles relished in the grounding weight and sighed as Derek inhaled deeply at Stiles’ throat. He fisted his hands in Derek’s shirt and they drifted off wrapped up in each other.

***

When Stiles finally woke up the next morning, the sun was high and he felt more rested than he had in...too long.

He stretched, energized all the way down to his toes. Derek nipped playfully at his shoulder, and Stiles rolled them so he could sit up.

He perched himself, straddled over Derek, and grinned down at him. “Hi there.”

“Hey,” Derek said, then yawned.

“How’s your pack?” Stiles asked.

Derek snorted. “Which one?”

Stiles frowned. “Are they separate?”

Derek sighed. “Yes. The three betas are mine and they’re on edge. They don’t like being in another alpha’s territory. They need to heal, but…” Derek broke off and shook his head. “It was good to be home, good to be with them, but I can feel it too. The territory isn’t mine anymore.”

Stiles leaned down to hug him. Even though they’d stopped Kate, the effects of what she'd done would linger for all of them in many ways. 

“There’s no alpha in Beacon Hills,” Stiles pointed out.

“Is that so?”

Stiles sat up again and smirked down at him. “Well, there is now.”

Derek pushed Stiles off with a huff. Then they started, planning, plotting, and organizing. Not to leave this time, but to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta [ChloeWeird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWeird).
> 
>  
> 
> Speaking of betas, she made be get rid of this scene because it really wasn't nessesary and didn't fit with the style of the fic but if you want to read it, here it is  
> [Escape](http://sylvie-w.tumblr.com/post/152159327318/most-ungentle-fortunes-escape)


End file.
